


the purple dress robes

by lovelyflowersinherhair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 03:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyflowersinherhair/pseuds/lovelyflowersinherhair
Summary: She might have lived, but that creature had taken away her beauty.





	the purple dress robes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElasticElla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/gifts).

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Lavender admitted, unwilling to raise her gaze from her lap, where she could only see her lace gloved hands. “I don’t want to be seen like this.” 

This. Like the rampaged girl she’d turned into that fateful day in the Great Hall, when Greyback had had his wicked way with her, ripping her to shreds, and leaving her for dead. Or worse. 

Lavender definitely considered this to be worse. She didn’t want to deal with the fact that she may have healed from her injuries (without being Turned, her mum and dad had hastened to add, like the fact that she wasn’t a Werewolf was any sort of comfort when she looked like this) but that the treatments did nothing to erase her scars. 

She might have lived, but that creature had taken away her beauty. And without her beauty, she felt as if she would have been better off being left for dead on the floor of the Hall. 

The only time she had bothered to mention that to her mum and dad, they had booked her a series of appointments with a Mind Healer, who had tried to convince her that beauty wasn’t everything, and wasn’t it important to live? Insisted that there were Charms and Incantations (and the Muggle remedies such as lasers, which Lavender thought was bloody barbaric, and she was dubious worked against cursed wounds) that would lessen the appearance of her scars, that she  _ was _ normal, in spite of the fact that Lavender knew that she was lying. 

“Lav--” 

“Don’t bother, Parvati,” she whispered. “Nothing you say will make me feel better. I just want to sod the whole thing and stay in bed all day. Maybe order a Muggle takeaway, or twelve.” 

The Muggles thought that Lavender had been a victim of something known as an acid attack. She didn’t entirely understand what the concept was, but she was more than willing to take advantage of their lack of knowledge of Werewolves and other Dark Creatures, and had gladly moved into a Muggle flat that was outfitted with Wizarding conveniences. Whatever inconveniences there were about being thrust into a world she would never understand had been outweighed by the way she was treated whenever she dared to attempt to integrate into society.

She was stared at with either pity, or with revulsion, or with some sort of perverse pride, and it made her want to throw a bloody tanty in the middle of wherever she had the misfortune to be at the time.

The purple dress robes that she’d been meant to wear were haphazardly thrown on, and she sensed the velvet had been crushed by her histrionics. She knew that she was being ridiculous. How many people were really going to be at Sybill’s birthday fete, anyways? She was doubtful it was going to be the event of the century, no matter what the woman’s third eye insisted on telling her. 

“A...Muggle takeaway?” Parvati asked, and she felt the bed dip as she sat down beside her. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I was really just throwing it out for a lark,” she admitted. “I don’t think we should really abandon the party. We’re probably the only ones showing up that really want to be there.” She sniffled, and shook her head. “And maybe hiding forever isn’t realistic,” she whispered.

“We don’t have to go,” she assured her, and Lavender felt her card her fingers through her hair. “I’m sure that Sybill will understand. Or I go and tell them that you’re still abroad?” 

“How many times will that excuse still work?” Lavender sighed. “No, I’ll go to the fete. I can’t promise I’ll want to stay very long though.”


End file.
